


You're My Croissant

by moushkas



Category: Eagle of the Ninth - Rosemary Sutcliff, Eagle of the Ninth Series - Rosemary Sutcliff, The Eagle | Eagle of the Ninth (2011), The Eagle | Eagle of the Ninth - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bakery, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Baking, Fluff, M/M, Pining, Romance, The Eagle Reverse Big Bang
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-19
Updated: 2012-10-19
Packaged: 2017-11-16 15:40:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/541092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moushkas/pseuds/moushkas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every morning Marcus Flavius Aquila watches the mysterious Esca pass by the 'Golden Eagle Bakery'. He dreams of what their lives could be together but never has the courage to actually speak to the man. With a little coaxing from his Uncle, Marcus finds his own way to tell Esca exactly how he feels.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're My Croissant

**You’re My Croissant  
** Eagle Reverse Bang  
moushkas//dombihugi 

Link to Art: [Golden Eagle Bakery by dombihugi](http://dombihugi.livejournal.com/230810.html)

Early fall was the most successful time for the Golden Eagle Bakery. The summer air was rapidly blowing south, bringing with it far more wind to spread the spell of their goods out into the streets. The Golden Eagle Bakery was a family owned establishment set between a bookstore and a coffee shop. While the coffee shop, Cottia’s Cafe, had a basic blue awning set against the brick store front, the Golden Eagle Baker had a Gold and Maroon awning with a bright gold store front. The display window was set next to the bright green bookstore front. The ‘Golden Eagle Bakery’ was written across the Window.

The bright gold door was always opened, sharing the smell of freshly baked goods. On the other side of the door, closest to the neighboring coffee shop, was the open kitchen. A door would fold up to reveal a counter where the chefs mix the pastries. This was to ensure that the smell of pastries as well as the chefs drew more customers.

The store was small and usually filled with employees and customers. Especially when the head pastry chef was working.

Marcus Flavius Aquila, co-owner of the Golden Eagle Bakery and master pastry chef, was the heartthrob of the community. He was usually found in the separated kitchen area, baking all of the goods sold inside the store. His piercing dark eyes were always focused on the creations. His broad shoulders and wide arms were stuffed tight in a white chef’s coat that was usually covered in flour and jellies. All day long, Marcus’s hulking body would hunch over the baking pastries and ignore the flock of admirers that came to his corner of the store. His sole focus was the pastries he created.

Unless it was early in the morning.

At 6am on the dot, Marcus would open the folding door to the kitchen and warm up the ovens. He would warm up his hands by rolling some croissants and watch the people pass by on the street. The streets weren’t crowded this early in the morning, perhaps a few people walking home from an overnight shift and one or two people that like to start early. For the most part, it was Marcus, watching an empty street and waiting.

What he was waiting for passed by at exactly 6:35 every morning.

The lean red head with the wide blue eyes walked by the shop at the same time every day. It was always 6:35 in the morning and 7:05 at night. He always carried an indiscriminate paper bag in his hand, a pale green messenger bag would be slung over his shoulder. He had a routine and it was Marcus’s mission to watch him. Marcus never told anyone, but he dreamed of the day when the mysterious young man would walk up to his counter and ask for his name, possibly give him his number and then the two would ride off into the sunset. But the man never approached Marcus and he was too afraid to approach the stranger.

So every day the two passed by each other without ever speaking. This morning was no different.

Marcus had woken up early, shaking away the dream of him and the handsome red head running around England on horseback. He showered and got rid of the tension before dressing in his standard white shirt and black dress pants. He donned a leather jacket because it was fall and it was cold, and walked the two miles to work.

The ovens were already preheated and a batch of croissants were in the oven by the time the red head passed by. Marcus froze right in the middle of kneading the second batch of dough and watched him pass. This morning the red head was eating hash brown bites from the bottom of the bag. Marcus balked at the grease dripping out the bottom. He couldn’t imagine how the man stayed so thin.

_Turn around and say ‘hello’ to me._ He hoped so loudly in his head that some days he was afraid the man actually heard him. But the man continued to walk away, _Please stop being a stranger._

“Who are you looking at?” A tired, dry voice called from inside the shop. Marcus jumped, tossing the dough into the street. He grabbed his chest, hoping to still the rapid beating in his chest. He looked over the counter to spot his Uncle smiling at him. The man wasn’t small, wise hazel eyes set deep amongst wrinkles and long white hair. He leaned over the counter to look out through the exposed wall. He smiled when he caught the backend of the red head walking away. Marcus’s uncle began to laugh, “I always wondered about you.”

Marcus gulped, “What are you talking about, Uncle? You’re being silly.”

Marcus ducked under the counter and walked into the street to retrieve the destroyed dough. He spared a glance at the man. The cargo pants wrapped nicely around his tight butt and he walked with his head held high. Marcus sighed, he’d been ignored again. Another morning passed with Marcus meeting his true love.

His uncle laughed from inside the store, “I do believe my nephew has a crush.”

Marcus blushed, “I do not, Uncle. I’ve never met him.”

Marcus circled back to the store, stepping under the counter to enter the kitchen again. He pulled a plastic trash can from the corner and tossed the dough into the trash bin. He looked up at his uncle who was still grinning, “You clearly would like to.”

Marcus didn’t respond. He pulled the ingredients to make another batch of croissants. He sighed wistfully as he mixed the ingredients together in a clean plastic bowl. After several moments of silence, he turned to his Uncle who was still giving a know look. Marcus glared at him, “What?”

His uncle shrugged, “You youngsters let life pass you by, always wishing and waiting. You need to take a chance, the worst that could happen is that he’ll reject you.”

Marcus kneaded the croissant dough then began to break off pieces to roll them into shape. He allowed a few more minutes of silence to pass by before turning to his uncle again, “And that is exactly what will happen, Uncle. He’ll laugh in my face and walk away.” _And that will kill me._

His Uncle laughed and moved further down the row of counters, “So then you pick yourself up and move on.”

Marcus paused and turned away from the pastries, “He’s perfect Uncle.”  _Too perfect for someone like me._

“Are we going to play this game, Marcus?” His Uncle sighed, “You are not fourteen anymore. Its not the end of the world if someone doesn’t like you. And you’ve never met him. He maybe an idiot, which he is if he doesn’t like you.”

Marcus bit his lip and turned back to the counter. The mysterious red head had no idea who he was or that he watched the man pass by every day. He’d never introduced himself, he’d never even spoke to the other man. But, in a way, that was kind of perfect. Marcus would never get hurt as long as the perfect stranger stayed at a distance.

His Uncle sighed and moved deeper into the shop, starting his morning preparations. He chuckled to himself, “Next time he passes this shop, invite him in for a pastry. No one can resist your baking.”

Marcus simply shrugged. He finished the second batch of croissants and put them in the oven. The first round was nearly done and he set the timer for them. He moved on to danishes, knowing the first round of customers favored them above his other pastries. He doubted he would ever have the strength to invite the mysterious man in. And even if he did, what would he do afterwards?

No, his life was better in the safety of his kitchen. He could happily spend the rest of his life waking up, baking all day, and watching the boy from afar. In fact, he liked that routine so much, he vowed to never break it.

That evening, when the stranger passed by the shop, a very greasy burger in his hand, his Uncle stepped out into the street. Marcus froze in his place, watching his Uncle walk right up to the man with his trademark grin. The man smiled politely, if a little stiffly and threw the burger back into the plain brown fast food bag. He couldn’t hear their exchange but the young man seemed uncomfortable.

Finally he pulled away from Marcus’s uncle and continued on the way. Marcus finished cleaning the counter and rushed to his Uncle who was still smiling and waiving to the young man. Marcus clutched his Uncle’s wrist and dragged back under the maroon awning of the shop, “What are you doing?”

His Uncle grinned up at him, “His name is Esca Mac Conoval. He’s a student and TA at the local University. You’re Welcome.”

With that his Uncle stormed back into the shop and left Marcus gobsmacked on the street.

***

The next morning, the red head, Esca passed by the shop. He carried an uneaten breakfast burrito in the same hand that held the strap of his messenger bag. He passed by the bakery as he always did but this time he smiled and waived at Marcus.

Marcus, who’d moved from danishes to a batch of bear claws, only stared at him in shock. Esca passed him by with a bright, perfect smile. His eyes were bright and full of mirth, something that warmed the pit of Marcus’s stomach. He passed by a little slower than normal and even turned back to look at Marcus when he was out of sight. Marcus could feel his face flush a hot red and his limps loose their control.

_Come Back, I’m in love with you_

He wanted to faint right there on the kitchen floor. However, the morning crowd would be lining up within the hour for pastries so Marcus threw all of his nervous energy into the pastries. He replayed the scene over and over in his mind, imaging himself jumping over the counter and falling to Esca’s feet. He would confess all of his undying love to the man and they would run away into the sunset.

“Marcus,” His Uncle shouted, “Mix the dough! You can dream about your true love on your break.”

Marcus flushed again and dove back into the mixing.

He managed a half-crazed smile when Esca passed by that night.

***

“What is the matter with him?” Cottia, the owner of the neighboring coffee shop, laughed at Marcus from one of the free tables. Marcus had been tripping over everything that morning. He burned three batches of cookies and had set half the kitchen on fire.

He was now banished to the corner and forced to clean the pots and pans. He sighed every couple of minutes and looked out the open wall of the bakery. His Uncle and Cottia watched him as he stumbled around and lost focus every now and again. His Uncle smiled to the young woman, “He’s pinning.”

Cottia smiled brightly, her hazel eyes sparkling with amusement, “Oh really? Who is it?”

She didn’t wait for Marcus’s Uncle to respond. She approached the counter and stood on her tip toes to see over the rounded edges. Marcus’s entire body was tense and he refused to turn around and face her, not when he knew she would have her same devious smile on her face, “No one you know?”

“Oh Marcus, which of our lovely regulars caught your eye?” She laughed, her voice full of wit and pleasure, “Was it Mrs. Whitely?”

“The old lady with the purple hair and a peg leg?” His Uncle laughed, “She’s too good for him!”

Cottia laughed with him, “Well than it must be Ms. ‘Call Me Francesca’! Has she finally flashed enough of her fake breasts to gain your favor?”

“You’ve read too many romance novels, Cottia.” Marcus threw over his shoulder. He idly wondered if Esca read romance novels, if he lied away at night wishing someone buff and dangerous broke into his room and made love to him. Marcus blushed fiercely before an image dared to pop in his head.

Esca hadn’t passed by the shop all day, not early in the morning and not that night. Marcus had been a wreck all day. He worried for Esca. He wondered if the boy had been stabbed, or perhaps ill in his bed with no one to take care of him. The fact was, Esca hadn’t kept to his routine today, the same one he’d had for nearly a year, and Marcus didn’t know how to deal with himself now.

Cottia pouted from behind Marcus, “How long have we known each other, Marcus! I told you about the day I lost my virginity.”

“And I asked you not to.” Marcus interjected.

“Beside the point,” She waived him off, “The point is that we tell each other everything. Now you’re refusing to tell me who your true love is?”

Marcus turned on her, tossing a spatula into the soapy mess, “Cottia, seriously. Enough dime store romance novels, I’m revoking your right to read them. And its not a crush, I just admire his tenacity!”

Cottia went from put-out to wide eyed joy in a matter of seconds. She smiled widely, her cute dimples pressing on either side of her grin. She seemed to be shaking from some unimaginable amount of energy, “A ‘he’. It’s a man.”

His Uncle chuckled, sipping on black coffee smiling from his seat across the room, “A very handsome red head who’s a student.”

She squealed, “A student! He better be getting his master’s degree, Marcus. You’re 25! You can’t be wasting your time with the young ones. You’ll be too old to pick up your four children!”

Marcus flushed, “What are you babbling about?”

“We don’t know how old he is,” His Uncle interjected, “Marcus is too afraid to ask and Esca ran off before I could.”

“Uncle, please stop.” Marcus waived a hand at his Uncle and turned to Cottia, “Now what is this about four children?”

“Well,” Cottia blushed, twirling a strand of blonde hair between her thin fingers, “You and your lover are going to adopt four children. And you can’t very well be trying to play basketball at 50!”

Marcus wasn’t sure how to respond, so he didn’t. He turned back to the sink and continued to wash the dishes. Cottia whined and sighed dreamily a little more before she began to yawn. She bid the two boys goodnight and returned to her loft above her coffee shop. His Uncle stood around a little bit longer before he made his way upstairs to his apartment.

As he reached the entrance way, he turned back to Marcus, “Don’t stay up too late. And think about what I said before.”

Marcus stopped, mulling over all the commentary he’d received over the last several days. He heaved a great sigh and prepared himself for very little sleep. After some time he heard his Uncle call from the top of the stairs, “Your father wouldn’t want you to be a coward. Its honorable to be brave.”

“Damn you!” Marcus growled. His one weakness was his father. The man had lived and breathed the bakery shop before his untimely death at the hands of a mugger. He spoke of tenacity, bravery and honor above all other things in life. They were things Marcus wanted to live by as well and curse his Uncle for using that against him.

***

Esca did not show up the next day but he did come around the day after. Marcus was less of a wreck the day before but have been tired the entire day. With more sleep, he was prepared for a full day without Esca. So when the lean red head passed by, another breakfast burrito in his hands, Marcus was stunned. He dropped a cookie cutter and squawked loudly which caught the man’s attention.

He smiled, “Good morning.”

“G-Good Morning.” Marcus responded before he could even stop himself, “Where were you?” _I missed You._

Esca glanced at a gold watch on his wrist. It was a little too big for his body type. It slipped up his arm, wresting on the thin, pale forearm. He smiled when he looked at it and walked up to the counter. Marcus gulped audibly as the narrow face became more clear, “Yeah, I had food poisoning the last two days.”

Marcus’s eyes widened, “Food poison?”

The man nodded, his fluffy hair moving in the gentle breeze. Marcus inhaled as subtly as possible, catching the smell of old books and coffee from Esca. He wanted to bottle that smell and spray it all over his bedroom. He was well and truly in too deep with his crush. Esca laughed, eyes fallen to Marcus’s hands that were needing croissant dough, “Yeah, my Mother said it was about time. She says its all the breakfast burritos I eat.”

Marcus glanced down at the burrito in his hand. It looked similar to the one he’d been eating two days ago. Esca laughed and deliberately took a large bite of the burrito. Marcus made a face closely resembling disgust. He’d grown up in a family of chefs and bakers, breakfast burritos from fast food restaurants were not something Marcus would call food.

Esca shrugged, “It was probably just a bad burrito last time. Plus, I survived it.”

Marcus stepped back deeper into the kitchen. He pulled a wax paper from one of the boxes resting on the counters and plucked an eclair from one of the newer batches. He walked back up to Esca and forced the pastry into his hand, “Eat it. This will be better than that stuff.” _Eat it and realize we’re perfect for each other._

Esca laughed again, stepping away from the pastry, “I can’t afford that.”

“On the house,” Marcus stated, “A ‘glad your better’ present.”

Esca’s eyes sparkled with amusement, “That’s nice but this is fine. That thing has no meat or veggies. I get all my food groups in this thing.”

Esca waived the burrito around, pieces of egg and green pepper flying out. Marcus frowned, “And probably all kinds of bacteria that will make you sick again.”

“Thanks for the concern, Mother.” Esca rolled his shoulders like he was easing tension away, like there had been some sort of anxiety before they started joking. Now that the red head was so close, Marcus could see the stress lines, the tired and weary expression. Marcus wanted to wrap the smaller man up in his arms and hold him tight but the counter was blocking them, “You know, I don’t even know your name.”

“Marcus.” He responded almost too quickly. He was still waiving the eclair around, “Please, take this. It’s free and you should eat something better than fast food.”

“You really sound like my Mother,” Esca grinned and reached for the treat. His fingers brushed against Marcus’s own before the pastry was taken out of his hand, “Thank You, Marcus.”

Marcus blushed and nodded, watching as Esca moved away from the shop. The red waived with the same bright smile on his face, Marcus waived back. He was unsure what his expression was and a part of him was afraid that it was scary or grumpy but Esca’s smile hadn’t wavered so Marcus called it a win.

He was floating on cloud nine the rest of the day. In the mid morning, several of the girls from the University liked to crowd around him and flirt. Usually he was polite and distant or ignore them completely. But today, he was so happy he’d even indulged a few of them. He kissed a girl on the cheek and rejected an offer for a date. He smiled and said, “Sorry, I’m already in love with someone else.”

The girls had squealed and bought half the product in the shop. That night, Marcus caught Esca walking home, a load of fries in his hands. Esca smiled and approached him, “Good evening, Marcus. How was your day?”

“Great.” Marcus smiled goofily, “How was the pastry?”

“It was okay.” Esca blushed, “I uh...don’t really like sweets.”

“Oh...” Marcus tried not to frown, “Oh, well that’s okay. Tomorrow I’ll make something else for you.”

Esca laughed, “You don’t have to do that, Marcus. I promise I don’t mind fast food. Its cheep and easy.”

Marcus frowned, “I told you, you don’t have to pay for it. I promise I’ll make something you like. I’ll make anything you want.” _I’ll be everything you want._

Esca smiled, “You’re a good man, Marcus. All these months I thought you were this attention hog that liked all the pretty ladies. But you’re really a nice guy.”

“I don’t actually like all that attention.” Marcus responded, “I like to bake. I like to see people’s faces when they eat the things I make. There’s this spark of pure joy, especially when they love it. That’s the best part of baking.” Marcus blushed. He’d never told anyone that much information about himself, never expressed the reason for pursuing the family business. Because it was never about the business.

Esca smiled, “Maybe that’s why everyone likes your baking so much. You put a lot of love in it.”

_My love for you._ Marcus coughed away the thoughts trying to slip through his lips. Esca couldn’t know so soon. It was obvious that Marcus was head over heels for him, but if Esca found out now, he’d be frightened away. He just smiled, “Fast food burritos don’t taste like love.”

Esca eyed him, nose in the air, “Your right, but its what I can afford.”

Marcus shrugged, “I, uh, don’t mean to pry but...”

Esca waived the comment away, “I’m getting a master’s degree in Roman History. I want to work in the Vatican some day, or maybe just Rome in general. For now, I’ll settle for TA and working at the University. They don’t pay well and Student loans are a horrible.”

Marcus nodded, “I don’t really know. I never went to University. But i’m sorry...”

Esca waived the comment away again, “Stop. I love it. I’ve always just grown up around fast food. I never had anyone to cook for me.”

_I’ll cook for you!_. Marcus wanted to take Esca by the shoulders and shout all his thoughts in the thin man’s face. He’d cook day and night for Esca, fatten the man up so that he could never go anywhere other than Marcus’s bed. And Marcus would be happy forever if that was their future.

“Well, it was nice speaking with you, Marcus.” Esca yawned, “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Marcus nodded, waiving to Esca as he walked back towards his apartment. Marcus tried not to swoon, tried not to fall over in pure joy. Esca was perfect and Marcus was in love.

“Keep cleaning the kitchen, Romeo.” His Uncle cried from the main floor.

Marcus laughed and turned back to his dishes. He cleaned them, humming some off-beat tune his mother used to hum when she cooked dinner. His Uncle laughed from his place on the floor, sweeping the dust and crumbs from around the chairs. Marcus planned his perfect pastry, one that would express his true love in every form. One that would show that he wanted nothing more than to cook for Esca forever.

***

It had taken Marcus most of the morning to fold the dough right to make a heart shaped Cannoli. He thought the slightly sweet, flaky pastry would show that Marcus was listening, that he understood Esca’s love of Italy and its wonders, that Marcus could and would create Italy for him.

He created several of them and placed them gently in a red, green and white box. He took a sharpie and contemplated what to write.

“Love me Forever?” Marcus mused aloud. It would be too obvious, “Be Mine?”

“Suck my Cannoli?” Cottia offered. She was standing next to the open kitchen, a black coffee in her hand. She wasn’t usually at the shop in the mornings, leaving it to her manager or shift leaders for the morning rush. But she must have gotten wind of Marcus’s plans as she was at his apartment door with a latte this morning and had babbled about names for children.

Marcus glared at her, “Cottia. I’m trying to be subtle and romantic. I want him to understand that I would be there for him. Not just use him.”

Cottia rolled her eyes, “But you do want to bang him, right?”

“It’s beside the point.” Marcus turned to the street just as Esca was approaching. He hissed at Cottia, “Not a word.”

She pursed her lips purposefully and moved away from the opening in the shop. Esca approached Marcus with a skeptical expression, “Good Morning, Marcus.”

“Morning, Esca.” Marcus grinned, “How are you today?”

Esca raised a plain bagel, “Okay. The restaurant closed after three people got food poisoning so it looks like dried bagels from the store it is.”

Marcus frowned and pushed the box towards Esca, “I made these for you.” _Please love me._

Esca smiled brightly and took the box, “More free food!?” He opened the box and spotted the heart shaped cannoli, “Its adorable! Are you testing them out for Valentine’s Day? I have to admit I may not be the best judge if they’re really sweet.”

Marcus pursed his lips, fighting for something to say. He wasn’t testing them out. He was trying to show his undying love for Marcus. He frowned and tried to find the words. Instead Cottia stepped in, giggling, “Marcus loves to put his expressions into his food. He bakes how he feels, if you know what I mean.”

Esca smiled, “I can see that.”

“I’m Cottia,” She set her hand in his, “I own the shop next door. Marcus and I are best friends. He’s been feeding me for years. It’s always bitter when I piss him off.”

Esca laughed, “I’m Esca. I appreciate the gift, Marcus. See you later.”

He waived to the two and walked off towards the University. Cottia clucked her tongue, “That boy is either oblivious or stupid.”

“He’s a genius.” Marcus hissed.

“So oblivious.” Cottia rolled her eyes, “That’s only cute for so long.”

“Maybe he’s straight.” Marcus frowned. That would be a waste.

Cottia laughed loudly, right in his face, “Did you hear how he gushed over that box. That boy is so bent he could suck his own dick!”

“Seriously,” Marcus growled, “No more novels for you.”

When Esca passed by that evening, the box was empty, some cream still sticking to the edges inside. He went to hand the box back to Marcus but the pastry chef refused. Esca smiled, “The girls in class all loved the idea. They may come begging for some come Valentine’s Day. I thank you for the gift.”

Marcus deflated, another opportunity passed. He continued to clean the counter, “Did you try it at all?”

“What?” Esca shuffled the box around, “Well, of course. They were pretty sweet. I liked looking at them more.”

Marcus nodded, “I appreciate it.”

“Well, I’ll see you Monday Morning.” Esca smiled, “Thank you for the box. It’s really cute.”

Marcus nodded and watched Esca walk away into the night. So Marcus would have to try a little harder next time.

***

“Does this have meat in it?” Esca laughed when Marcus handed him a bougatsa. They were his mother’s favorite breakfast food but they were not popular in the store. Marcus wanted to show his caring nature, that he understood Esca kneaded protein and vitamins. He wanted to show Esca that he could provide for the man.

“Some spiced meat and cheese.” Marcus smiled, watching Esca’s face.

“This is better than the burritos at least.” Esca’s expression remained the same, a little tired and very hungry. It didn’t spark with joy, he didn’t hum from content.

“I-” Marcus began.

“But you know,” Esca shrugged, “Cottia was talking about you bake your emotions into everything. I don’t really taste it but maybe that’s because I’m not a connoisseur.”

“I-” Marcus tried again, watching Esca’s cheeks light up in a deep red. He could be blushing from embarrassment, or the cold fall breeze, or maybe he could taste Marcus’s love in the pastry.

Esca interrupted him again, “Do you make everything with certain people in mind?”

“When I make lemon cookies I think of my father.” Marcus shrugged, “They were his favorite. I think of my Uncle when I make bear claws.”

Esca bit his lip, liking bits of the phyllo dough away. He blushed hotly, the red spreading all the way to the tips of his ears. Marcus blushed as well, wondering what Esca was thinking about. Marcus played around with some crumbs, “I-” think about you all the time, “Um...” love you more than I love baking, “Do you like it?”

Esca nodded, “It’s good. Thank you for feeding me all the time. Do you always take pity on the poor students?”

“Sometimes.” Marcus laughed.

“Only when they’re cute!” His Uncle shouted from inside the restaurant. Esca laughed aloud but Marcus blushed deeply. The red head pulled away then, bidding Marcus a ‘good day’ and walking towards the University. It was another failed experiment.

His Uncle sighed from inside, “Maybe you should just tell him.”

“He won’t believe me.”

“The way you look at him?” His Uncle laughed.

Marcus sighed, “I want him to know its more than just looks.”

He moved further into the store and caught his Uncle’s attention. The man was getting on in years but he refused to give up his store. The elder man stretched his limbs and turned to Marcus with a weary smile, “What pastry reminds you of him?”

Marcus frowned, mulling over the question for the rest of the day. When the idea finally struck him, it was nearly time for Esca to come walking by the shop again. He caught Esca’s attention and pulled him closer, “So, you need to have a proper meal.”

Esca’s eyes shined, “Yeah?”

“Yes,” Marcus nodded, “So make some time to stop by the shop tomorrow.”

Esca frowned, “Oh...Yeah,” He nodded, “I will. I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow.”

“I’ll be here!” Marcus waived as Esca made his way back to his apartment. He turned to his Uncle with a bright smile, “Is it alright to open the shop early tomorrow?”

“I’ll set a table aside for you.” His Uncle returned to the floor, pulling a single table with two french chairs closer to the center of the room.

***

Marcus woke extra early so that he could prepare the store. He decorated the table in simple white cloth with tiny cherry blossoms stitched into the border. It was his mother’s table cloth and it matched the cherry blossom patterned napkins that they used for special guests.

He then returned to the kitchen and made the best batch of croissants he could. When Esca entered the store, his hair a mess but perfect, he whistled in awe, “I’ve never been in here.”

“Take a seat,” Marcus called from the kitchen. He made sure his chef jacket was perfect, that his had was perfectly placed on his head, that the croissant was a perfect golden brown, “So, I thought all night about the perfect pastry. One I know you’ll like.”

Esca laughed, slinging his messenger bag over the back of his chair, “So, is this the pastry that reminds you of me?”

Marcus placed the perfect pastry on a plate. It was the right golden brown and the dough was flaky. He angled it just right on the plate and made his way to Esca. He laid the plate on the table with a broad smile and looked at Esca’s face, “It’s a croissant. You’re my croissant.”

“I’m your croissant?” Esca sounded confused and maybe disappointed. When Marcus looked at his face, he could definitely see it. Esca was pouting a little and his eyes were wearily looking at the pastry.

Marcus kneeled down next to Esca, “Yes, you’re simple.”

“Simple?” He sounded offended now.

“And everyone knows you.”

“Excuse me?”

Marcus floundered for the right words, “I mean, its popular.”

“Or slutty?”

“No...” Marcus sighed and collapsed on the ground, “The first time I ever saw you, I was making croissants. You were walking by in this tight, gray sweater and you had this bright smile on your face. And I destroyed the dough. I couldn’t roll the croissant at all. And they were flat when they came out of the oven.”

“So I destroyed your croissants. And now you think about that every time you make them?” Esca was confused but at least not offended. Marcus took that as a win, moving closer to Esca. Kneeling beside the man, facing his thin waist and lean muscles, Marcus wondered what they would be liked wrapped around his bulkier form. If he spoke right, maybe he could find out by the end of the week.

“Croissants were the first things I ever made successfully. I was ten and they took forever. It couldn’t mix the ingredients right or I burned them in the oven. I was finally brave enough to just try it. I burned my fingers and the kitchen was a mess but the croissants were perfect.” Marcus smiled, he dared to take Esca’s hand in his, fingers stroking along Esca’s thin fingers, “I got so good that I could do them in my sleep. But one look at you and I was a wreck.”

There was a shared silence between the two. Marcus couldn’t look Esca in the face. He was too afraid to see what the man looked like or what he might possibly look like. He was sure he looked every bit the way he felt, pained and lovestruck. Esca’s pale, thin fingers tapped against Marcus’s hand. The thin nails tapped against his bones rhythmically, like he was waiting for something. Marcus realized his explanation may have not been enough to express his undying love to Esca.

Marcus took a deep breath and raised his head, prepared to wax poetics about Esca. When he met Esca’s eyes he saw the wide smile across the young man’s face. Esca’s grasp on Marcus’s hands tightened, “I like you a lot, too.”

Marcus looked up into Esca’s face, watched the amusement flicker in his hazel eyes. They were quiet again, gripping each other’s hands. They smiled goofily at each other until Esca’s stomach grumbled loudly. They laughed together before letting go of each other’s hands. Marcus brought a chair over and sat down close to Esca. Esca himself took a bit of the croissant, ripping off one edges and taking a small bite.

He closed his eyes as the croissant melted in his mouth. Esca hummed low in pure pleasure. Marcus swallowed audibly at the semi obscene sight before him. Esca grinned, “Marcus this is delicious. This is the best thing ever!”

Marcus grinned brightly. He’d finally gotten that moment out of Esca. Esca’s cheeks were flushed, his smiled wide. He ate the croissant slowly, hums and gasps of pleasure slipping out after every bite. Marcus wanted to immortalize that expression and for once, he may get the chance. He opened him mouth, _Let’s go on a date. How about you marry me. Come back to my apartment and never leave. I love you._ “I love you.”

Esca turned to look at Marcus, his eyes were wide. Marcus flushed after he realized what he said out loud. He tried to cover the slip but nothing came to mind. Esca leaned forward, taking Marcus’s hand in his again, “I’ve been waiting for that for awhile.”

Esca pressed his lips against Marcus’s, essentially paralyzing Marcus with shock. Esca made a pleased noise in the back of his throat that jerked Marcus into action. He pressed back against Esca, deepening the kiss. They didn’t pull away until Marcus’s Uncle came down the steps to star opening the shop and Esca realized he was late for work.

“I’ll see you tonight, Marcus.” Esca kissed Marcus one last time, “Thank you for the croissant.”

Marcus smiled and waived to Esca as he ran down the street. He leaned against the doorway of the shop and allowed himself to enjoy this perfect moment.


End file.
